How the trio met
by seasaltflavoredsweetpeas
Summary: every one knows the B.T.T, there always causing a ruckus in world meeting or scheming to get a couple together, but how did they meet?
1. The Roman Empire

**Chapter 1: The Roman Empire**

France peaked through the slight crack in the door. What was he doing?

This boy was strange, not even North Italy compared to the oaf in front of him. Who could look so overly delighted after being kidnapped and taken from there home? But nonetheless he appeared joyous.

His full-hearted grin covered his face only to end at his giggling green eyes and his earthy brown hair flopped across well tanned forehead as he bounced up and down on the plush red couch. This seemed all wrong; France could smell the lie seeping through the exuberant happiness.

Thump* thump* thump

France scuttled away from the door as he heard the sound of heavy foot steps pound against the groaning floor boards. However his effort to hide appeared to be in vain and within seconds his seven year old body was snugly held in the arms of the Roman Empire.

Frances small body trembled as he began to sob into his caretakers arms "I-I'm s-s-so- sorry m-Mr. R-Rome. I-I sh-shouldn't s-spy li-like th-that i-it's ru-rude."

Rome smiled softly and kissed him on the forehead "France, child, don't worry. He is going to live in the same house as you; of course you want to learn about him," his words were hushed and warm; they trickled into Frances ears like a cool stream in a hot desert. "And besides Spain is about the same age that you are, I thought you would be curious. Why don't you go talk to him?"

France curled into the man's arms, Rome's voice was so kind and he wanted to believe every word he spoke, but there was more than just a voice, there were words, words that refused to be ignored. France didn't like those words one bit. "But he's so _different_" his tone was judging and bitter and most definitely did not belong in someone so young. "Can he even speak Latin?"

Rome gave out a defeated sigh "no, no he can't, France." His voice seamed to sting with sadness, France couldn't fathom why. "But, maybe you could teach him."

France marveled up at his guardian. Him, teach Latin, but why? "But, shouldn't you teach him? I mean you're older."

The Roman Empire chuckled "some times children learn better when they're taught by their peers," France felt Rome's arms move out from under him just before his boots hit the floor. "Go on in, pet."

Before he could protest, France was being pushed through the now open door and steered toward the unfamiliar, strange, and overly enthusiastic newcomer. Spain.

**AN: this is my first non-Nordic related fan fiction so please tell me what you think.**

**i don't own Hetalia **


	2. pond scum and secrets

**Chapter 2: pond scum and secrets **

France was fun! Spain really liked him, but then again Spain liked just about everybody so that didn't say much.

He adored living with a boy his age, it was so exiting! They would climb trees together, and go into the woods and hunt rabbits, and all sorts of things!

Today, like most days, the duo was outside; outside and drenched in water and pond scum.

"_Spain_, why did you push me into the duck pond? It is disgusting in there!"

"Aww, come on Franny, you can't hate it _that_ much. It's a hot summer's day, let's go swimming."

Before France could protest Spain flung himself into the water. He was just a bit too much for France to handle, he knew that, and he applauded himself for it.

"Ugh! Spain, you splashed water _all _over my clothes!"

"So, what's the problem? Your clothes are already wet, come swimming with me, Franny."

"FINE! I WILL!" France seemed rather irritated, but that wasn't Spain's problem "and then my clothes will be all wet, and then I can die of hypothermia, and then…"

Spain cut the ranting boy off with a hardy chuckle "France, it's 35 degrees Celsius out, I don't think we have to worry about hypothermia."

Spain watched France give an unattractive frown before moseying his already wet pant leg into the water. "It's cold."

"That's the point."

…

Spain and France were cradled against a large grey bolder. Their sopping wet clothes and hair made dark, moist prints across it as they stared at the shimmering sunset. Pinks, and reds and oranges, and soft purple hue all rolled into one and Spain felt like worshiping the colors.

"Spain?" France's voice was soft and questioning and Spain had to turn had to turn his head to hear well.

"Yeah, what is it."

"Well, I was wondering why you're always so happy. You were taken away from your home, you must be sad about ii."

Spain gulped, how could he explain this. It was hard and on the tip of his tongue at the very same time. He sat in his thoughts for a minute and then the words splashed out of his mouth like waves on a beach. "I am sad, but I like to hide it. I don't want Rome to feel guilty and I don't want the rest of you to feel bad for me," he took a breath of clean starry oxygen and continued, lowering his voice as he went. "But not all of it is sad. Lots of things here are happy, the Italy brothers are both so cute you have to smile around them….and you, France."

"Yes Spain?"

"You make me happy."

France gave him a dazzling and heart warming smile. "I'm glad."

Spain's chest fluttered with delight. He was only seven and it was hard for him to put his emotions into words. He was thrilled that France understood.

He startled out of his thoughts as France wrapped him into a hug. Spain shivered at the touch of France's cold wet clothing, but he hugged back anyways, he didn't know why.

"Thank you for telling me," it was a barley audible whisper and it snaked into Spain's ears the way a thread forces its self into a sewing needle.

Before he could answer he heard the hushed conversation of feet on grass and a dark figure lurked out of the shadowy trees.

The two boys looked up at the cloaked figure as grinning ivory fangs glinted in the now moonlit night. "Sorry to interrupt the love fest, but Rome wanted me to come find you. It's time for dinner," the person spoke in a cocky prepubescent voice. Romania.

The two boys stretched into an upright position and sauntered home, with their clothes dripping water onto the grass.

**i don't own Hetalia **


	3. the plight of the Prussian

Prussia's torso leaned into the branches of a Whitebeam tree. His grayish white robes fluttered in the soft May time-wind and his oily silver hair mismatched the trees dancing white flowers. HA! If Hungary could only see him now!

Prussia had taken up spying. Hungary had clamed he wasn't subtle enough to spy, and he was here to prove her wrong.

He peered down at the two teenagers leaning against the tree. They looked like normal humans, but he knew better. You could hear the fairy voices of their people whispering around them like small forgotten wind chimes. They were most definitely nations.

The long-haired blond one gave a tiptoed lean toward the taller brunet, and Prussia pushed his head down so he could hear well.

_Swoosh, _**THUMP!**

"FUCK!" Prussia held himself up on his hands as he spat mud-covered grass onto the ground. Then he fell onto his stomach and rolled onto his back, smearing mud across his face and clothing as he did so.

Damn, why did it have to rain yesterday? That was why he had slipped on the branch. It was also why he was now covered in soppy wet mud.

The two other boys stared at him with questioning gazes. Then the brunet broke into a grin that could probably cure the plague. "Hey! I haven't seen you before, what's your name?"

The blond-haired boy in the turquoise top gave off a harsh glare. "Spain! He was spying on us! Don't go making friends so easily!"

"Come now France, he's lying on the ground covered in mud. How much damage can he do?"

Prussia was shaking with fury at this point, he hated being ignored. "Hey! I am the awesome Prussia and I can do a lot of damage, even when I am covered in mud! I'm a nation not some fucking pig who sits in this shit all day!" His voice was high and screechy, some might describe it as banshee like; he was really hating the fact that his voice hadn't changed yet.

"Hum, he uses curse words quite a lot doesn't he France? He's kind of like Romano, don't you think?" The boy, who the blond one had called Spain, seemed to be looking at an invisible utopia. His eyes hazed off into the distance and he wasn't just smiling with his face; some how every centimeter of him was covered in a serene sort of joy, as if he had spilled it all over himself as a child and just couldn't get it off.

The blond one, France was his name apparently, started arguing with Spain in a disapproving, snobbish voice that grated on Prussia's nerves. "What are you talking about, Spain? This mangy rat is nothing like my sweet little Romano! And anyways were you even listening to him? Did you not notice the part about him being another _nation_?"

Ouch! Mangy rat? That stung Prussia's awesomeness to it's very core, but that didn't mean he had to show it. "yeah, I am a nation! And so are you so I think I deserve some respect. Now will you please help me out of this pig sty?"

France gave a half hearted sigh "well since you said please I suppose I must take pity on you and help."

Oh, thanks, Prussia thought. Just what I needed, pity.

**i don't own Hetalia **


	4. the Frenchmans house

**Chapter 4: the Frenchmans house **

This house, it was a bluish humdrum of frills and conveniences, not really Prussia's style, but it was warm and dry and the food was scrumptious. Not to mention it's wonderful host .

True to his word France had helped, helping him ooze out of the squelching mud despite his obvious disgust at the situation, helping him find a wash tub so he could scrub the caked on dirt and sludge from his skin, helping him find a clean tunic to wear.

France had helped _too much_, much more than Prussia could repay in the span of a few hours. And to top it all off France had made him a plate of food so delectable that letting it go to waste could bring you guilt for the rest of your life.

And Spain? Spain had mostly just hung there and watched them. He was rather creepy really; suspended there like an eerie doll that every one else was too use to to notice.

Prussia was longing for home and it had only really been a few hours. He wanted Hungry and her earthy green eyes that were always filled with a fake smile. He wanted his little brother Holy Rome and his forever serious pout that drew his lips into an illegible smug of pink. Hell! He even missed that damn Austria.

But that didn't mean he wanted to abandon his new companions. Yes, one was rather strange, and yes the other was insufferably helpful, but everyone had faults, Prussia didn't mind, not one bit, he just wanted to get back to his life.

"May I go home now, please?" his voice creaked in that age old tone that only gets dusted off when you really want something, he only hoped they didn't notice.

France had been swishing about the kitchen when he suddenly froze at the request. "But don't you like it here? If I'm not being hospitable just tell me, I'll try harder!" his flickering blue eyes looked rather panicked and it made Prussia feel truly awful.

"No, it's not that. You've been very kind to me. It's just that….I really need to get home, my little brother can't take care of himself yet."

Spain perked up at the words little brother "You have a little one to take care of too? That's wonderful! Maybe he and Romano can play together some time, what's his name?"

Prussia was rather flabbergasted at such exuberant friendliness; he had just met these people. "Umm, his name is Holy Roman Empire. Can I go home now?"

"Yes, yes, go and tell Holy Roman Empire hello for me! Do you need directions? You live north of hear right? Look on this map, that road should get you were you need to go." Spain's voice was rushed and Prussia couldn't even respond before the next sentence came rushing out. Before he knew it he was walking down a little dirt road that he hoped headed home.

**i don't own Hetalia**

**please review **


	5. and so we meet again

A smug air skidded across France's ego as he sauntered up to the vaguely familiar silveret. "Prussia! Five years! Five years and all I get is a 'will you join my army?' How rude!"

The Prussian gave him a devious smirk and tilted his head to the side. "But you came anyways, didn't you France? Thank you for that; do you know if Spain is coming?"

"How should I know? Spain and I do not live together. As I'm sure you know, Prussia, my love is reserved for ladies like, oh let me think, Hungary." France's voice was low and smooth and he loved it.

A smirk danced onto France's face as he watched Prussia give off an angry and horrified look. Ah yes, jealousy had always been France's favorite tool, but admittedly it was much more fun when he was telling the truth…

France was pulled out of his thoughts by the rustling of leaves, and without thought jerked his head towards a near by tree. Prussia did too, and before they knew what was happening, the well-tanned blur that was Spain's face popped into view above the shaded yellow leaves. "Hi guys!"

France shook his head, clearing his disbelief away before falling into an indignant tone. "Spain, what the hell are you doing up in a tree?"

"Looking for you, of course." Spain had on that jovial smile of his; it was always there gleaming with overwhelming happiness. God that smile pissed France off.

Prussia just gave off his equally constant smirk and spoke in a challenging voice. "So, have you come to help me?"

"Well, not if you're going to say it like that." Spain began slithering his way down the tree as he talked. "You know when Romano talks to me in that tone he gets sent to his room for a time out." France couldn't help but snicker at the thought of Spain sending Prussia to his room. He kept listening.

Prussia shot Spain a pout. "I'm not a five year old!" "And nether is Romano." Spain was on the ground now, walking towards his argumentative friend. "But I still help him; if you're nice I'll help you defeat Austria. How about it?" He held out his hand to shake, and Prussia accepted eagerly.

France couldn't help it any more. "Oh! Me to, me to! I'll help!" He knew he sounded childish, but he didn't care, and the others were laughing so it was worth it.

France had never liked war. But with friends by his side, this one might just be acceptable.

**AN: i finally updated! also Spain's a bit OOC in this, i know so please don't hate me.**

**Please review!**

**i don't own Hetalia **


	6. Tomatoes and gentlemen don't mix

Spain shifted on the conference room rafters, there was a bucket full of rotten tomatoes within arm's reach and he eyed them with suspicion.

He hadn't come up with this plan; he had just provided the tomatoes. Out of the trio he had never been the malicious one, but France and Prussia had some people to get back at and Spain wasn't going to stand in there way, in fact, he was more than willing to help. Austria and England weren't his favorite people.

He glanced towards Prussia and the two exchanged a friendly smile. Spain cherished this, having two best friends, the way they could communicated with nothing but their eyes. It was all so perfect, and he loved that.

The doors gave a loud ominous creak, and Spain pulled away from his thoughts to look. There were the two gentlemen the trio was waiting for, shuffling in side-by-side in very neat suits, as they held an ever so dull conversation about tea and crumpets.

Suddenly something whizzed through the air and stopped with a loud splat. Spain gave a bewildered look at a grinning France, only to look back and see England's starchy white button down drenched in a dark red juice that could only be a tomato.

Another tomato whooshed past Spain as it hurtled toward Austria; now all Spain could think to do is join in on the fun.

The trio spent the next fifteen minutes pelting the other two men with rotten tomatoes, while the unfortunate duo tried desperately to get away. Then Germany walked in.

"WHAT THE HOLY HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!" the German man looked rather irritated, but then again he always did, so the trio just smiled.

After a few seconds Germany calmed down and continued in a more composed manner. "Sigh* what are you three doing up in the rafters? Get down from there." His voice was gruff and stern, it made a mismatched counterpart to the quizzical frown that he was directing toured the ceiling.

Prussia was the first of the friends to speak up "well you see brother, being in the rafters means that we have a better angle of attack, maybe you could learn something, like how to win wars. Oh, and brother, we haven't run out of tomatoes yet." And with that Prussia grabbed onto his bucket of tomatoes and dumped it all down straight on top of Germany.

The rest of the nations all turned to the Prussian with rather shocked expressions. Spain was rather astounded by the whole situation; did he just do that to _Germany_, of all people?

The main culprit however seemed to take it in stride. "Kesesese, I am awesome Prussia and I am more awesome than you!" then before anyone could respond he swung down from the rafters. France and Spain followed his lead, they couldn't think what else to do.

As soon as their feet hit the floor Germany grabbed onto their arms and marched them out the door. He looked absolutely furious and the tomato juice covering his face only amplified the effect.

"You three will stay out here until you are needed in the meeting room. Understood?" The trio nodded, and with their confirmation he walked away and slammed the door behind him.

Before he could stop himself Spain broke out in giggles, not caring about the day's earlier events. "D-does h-he thinks t-his is pu- punishment?" at that Prussia and Spain started laughing with him.

"I know, i-it's like h-he th-thinks meetings are f-fun!" Prussia gasped as he clutched his side. The three of them were rolling on the ground now and the other nations passing by were giving them some funny looks, but they didn't care.

"W-we'll just get i-n to m-more t-trouble th-this way," chortled France. They were laughing and smiling, and somewhere, in the back of his mind, Spain knew this was the most fun they would ever have at a world meeting. But that didn't matter, it was still wonderful.

**AN: THE END! i really hope you enjoyed this.**

**please review!**

**and , as always, i don't own Hetalia**


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